


Healing wounds

by TattoOS



Category: Red Dawn (2012)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, First Kiss, Hugs, M/M, they are alright in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 15:10:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20176330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TattoOS/pseuds/TattoOS
Summary: When they leave Daryl he cuts out the tracker and hides in time so that the Russians miss him/can’t find him. He hides away in one of the camps until it heals over.Robert goes back to the old camp for more supplies and finds Daryl.





	Healing wounds

**Author's Note:**

> These two aren't shipped very much, but I like this ship. And I think it is more cannon than other ships.

Daryl watched the others drive away until they were no longer in sight. 

Then he fell to the floor and cried. 

“Fuck!” He shouted, tears streaming down his face. 

His shaking hands came to rest on his side where the tracker had been implanted. He could feel it ever so slightly, like a small capsule under his skin about the size of a pill. 

Squeezing the skin wouldn’t get the tracker to just pop out, it would have to be cut out. 

After feeling around in the pocket of his coat for a few seconds, he found the penknife and pulled out the blade. 

Taking a deep breath in, his felt for the tracker one more time before bringing the blade closer to the skin. 

He closed his eyes and winced slightly when the blade pierced his skin. With the area opened up he stuck his fingers in and found the glassy shell of the tracker. As he pulled it out he exhaled shakily, bringing the tracker up to his eyes. 

“Fuck you.” He whispered to it as he stood up slowly. Taking the shoulder strap of the gun, he tied it around his waist and over the wound to reduce the bleeding. 

Looking back at the tracker, he sighed and threw it as far as he could to the left, before picking up the gun and running to the right.

He had togged away before the Russians found him. 

———————————————————————————————————————————

He ran until he started to recognise the surroundings again. He knew that if he couldn’t make it to their last remaining camp and treat the wound properly then it would only cause more issues. 

Finally he saw the small stream that they used to use for washing and started to slow his pace a little. 

It had been three hours since he had pulled the tracker out and he was starting get used to the aching pain in his side. 

The camp, thankfully, hadn’t been touched and so was still well camouflaged, which meant he could enter knowing that all of the supplies that he needed would still be there. 

Despite not being able to see the wound clearly, he managed to clean and patch up said wound relatively well.

Next he needed to rest and hope that the wound would start to heal up, so he checked the exits and made a small nest in the corner to sleep in. 

With his gun close by and listening to any sounds that the Russians would still be following, his mind started drifting towards his friends. He hoped that they were ok, and they had managed to get the radio away safely. 

Lastly, he thought of Robert, his stupid hat and the soft smiles as exhaustion slowly crept its way over to Daryl. No sounds could be heard of the Russians and so he allowed himself to sleep. 

———————————————————————————————————————————

Over the following days since he had pulled the tracker out and began to live in the old camp, he hadn’t heard or seen anyone. 

No goodies and no baddies. 

His wound was crusted over and the stitches were still holding up. He had enough supplies to last another four weeks, which would hopefully be enough time for his wound to heal. 

On the fifth day since he had cut the tracker out, he heard someone outside his hideout. 

He had been practicing his ability to shoot a target, using the toy gun they trained with, when there was a muffled scream of pain. Daryl put down the toy gun quietly and picked up his rifle. 

When he looked outside he couldn’t see anyone, but judging from the sound he heard in the hideout, someone had been caught in his traps he set out the day before. 

The first trap Daryl approached was empty, but the second one had blood on the hinges and a trail leading to his hideout. 

Someone was in his cave. 

He decided to walk around to the emergency exit so that it would be more of a surprise when he attacks the intruder. 

Inside, cans and boxes could be heard being thrown into a pile and sorted through. 

Daryl turned the final corner before the main area of the cave and saw a familiar figure sat in the floor, his legs bleeding heavily and a scowl on his face. 

Daryl relaxed a little bit at the sight of Robert and lowered his rifle slightly. 

“I need those cans, Robert.” He said calmly, moving out of the way quickly to avoid the gunshot he had anticipated. 

Robert held his gun steadily at Daryl and squinted at the figure in front of him, he recognised the voice but the loss of blood was making him dizzy. 

“Do I know you?” He growled, panic starting to rise when his realised the his sight was getting more blurry and he was struggling to stay sitting up. 

Daryl felt a pang of hurt in his chest, and titled his head in confusion. “Robert... it’s Daryl.” 

Robert was starting to sway as he sat on the floor due to the dizziness. 

“Daryl?” He asked weakly, but before he could figure out who this familiar person was, he fainted and crumpled into a pile on the floor. 

The other boy rushed to his friend’s side and winced slightly when he saw the massive claws of the bear trap that had suck into Robert’s leg. He dragged a first aid kit over and ripped off the leg of the bloodied trouser. 

Cleaning and bandaging up the wound took a long time because he wanted to ensure that there was a very small risk of infection. 

Robert’s pulse was still weak, so Daryl pulled his friend into a bed he made on the floor and went to find the IV tubes he knew had been stashed somewhere. 

Before the world went to chaos, he and Robert had gone to a blood donation station to celebrate graduating high school together. This was how daryl knew that they both, conveniently, had the same blood type. 

He sat down next to Robert and started to set up the tubes, so that his blood would transfer into a bag, which could then be attached to Robert. 

Daryl had considered hooking it his tube straight up to Robert’s arm, but everybody seemed to use bags and he didn’t want to risk causing any more issues. 

Relaxing next to Robert, watching the blood bag fill up, Daryl thought about their childhood. They had been best friends since Robert’s family had moved next door when Daryl was five. 

He remembered the sleepovers, the mud-pies, the treehouse and the lake swing they had set up when they turned seven. 

Looking down at Robert, he realised how much he cared for this boy. He had always liked Robert, that why they were friends. But this felt different. This felt stronger, more permanent. 

He was dragged away from his mind, when he looked back up and noticed the bag was almost full. 

Carefully, he pulled the tube away from his arm and put pressure on the hole. Closing up the bog and changing the tubes, he took off Robert’s coat and rolled up his sleeves so that he could reach the veins. 

His own veins had stopped bleeding as much so he applied a plaster and connected Robert up to the blood bag. 

When he was sure that his friend was taking the blood well, he pulled his a over and picked out a small packet of biscuits. 

He munched on the biscuits slowly as he watched the blood slowly being dispensed into Roberts arm. When it was about half-way done, he got up and started to prepare dinner for the two of them.

A fire was made, and a bot of stew put over it to cook, when the blood bag finally drained. Daryl put the bag away and put a plaster of Robert’s veins, now he just had to wait for the other boy to wake up. 

He sat, stirring the stew that was starting to boil, when he finally heard it. A sound like music to his ears.

“Daryl?” Came a weakened voice from where Robert had been lying. Daryl looked up and smiled in response at the other boy.

“Hey, you feeling better?” He asked, pouring some of the stew into two bowls. When he didn’t hear a reply, he looked up again, and saw Robert staring at him.

“You had a tracker… They were hunting you. How are you here?” Robert croaked. 

“I cut it out and ran away.” Daryl replied, bringing the stews over and handing a bottle of water to his friend. 

Robert drank heavily from the bottle and tired to sit up. Only then did he remember the injury to his leg. 

He winced and removed the blanket that had been covering him to look at the wound.

“You patched me up?” Robert asked in amazement. 

A dull throbbing in his arm caught his attention and he noticed the plaster on the inside of his elbow. He looked to Daryl with an eyebrow raised in question. 

“Did you take some of my blood as well?” 

“No, I gave you blood. You lost too much and fainted.” Daryl explained, tapping his own plaster on his arm. 

Robert stared at Daryl, slowly coming to terms with this. He had thought that he was never going to see his friend again. 

He had mourned for his friend for five days, without knowing that Daryl was alive and healing from his own wounds. 

Feeling tears start to well up in his eyes, he touched Daryl’s arm lightly and sniffed. This then turned to sobs when he was pulled into a hug.

“I thought you were dead.” He whimpered into Daryl’s shoulder. He could feel a hand rubbing his back gently. 

“I’m sorry.” Daryl whispered, his voice almost breaking from emotions. “I’m sorry about the tracker and I’m sorry about the traps.” 

“I’m just glad you’re alive.” Robert whispered back. Daryl nudged his head closer and touched his lips lightly to Robert’s neck. 

The boys separated partially in shock, looking at each other carefully. But the tears and the pain that they had both experienced could be seen on each of their faces. 

Robert felt an ache in his chest and pulled Daryl closer. Fitting their lips together and sighing in relief. 

They clutched at each other, and cried as they kissed.

They cried at their pain, but they also cried in relief and hope. 

When they parted again their tears were gone, instead there were soft smiles on their faces. 

“I, erm” Robert cleared his throat. “I am feeling better.” He grinned and hugged Daryl closer. Daryl rolled his eyes but accepted being drawn into the other boys arms again. They were both feeling better now. 

They sat on the floor of that cave, hugging each other tightly. Their wounds were starting to heal, and they could begin to think about future in a more positive light.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on holiday at the moment so posts may be more frequent.


End file.
